


Retreat

by SerpentineJ



Series: Refuge, Respite, Relaxation [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Again, Dark Will, Hannigram - Freeform, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Psychology, i think, kind of, this is bizzare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:02:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentineJ/pseuds/SerpentineJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will takes refuge in the Chesapeake Ripper’s mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little idea I had. It must be confusing, with the empathy. What better place to take refuge than in the mind of a detached psychopath?

Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly overwhelmed, Will retreats to his stream.

It’s a peaceful place, with the fish fat and easy (though still enough of a challenge to keep him interested), and the small cabin where he and figment-Abigail sometimes sit, drinking warm apple cider by the fire, talking or simply listening to the pop and crackle of the flames.

It’s is a fairly normal retreat, he knows; doesn’t everyone have a “happy place” in their minds? His stream is his happy place, as juvenile as it sounds.

Other times, though.

Other times, when the thoughts are swirling ‘round his head, a stew of murky red and purple-black and the glint of a half-concealed blade, when he knows if he tries to retreat to his stream it will turn up dark, perverted, the river’s cheerful clarity and cool rush replaced with the viscous slick and the metallic tang of blood, the trees decayed, black leaves, and a dead stag in his cabin- that’s when he indulges his guilty pleasure.

The Chesapeake Ripper.

His mind is so, so neat; everything compartmentalized, every decision rational, no instability or doubt to be found. The distinct lack of empathy is like a balm on Will’s overactive imagination.

In many ways, they are complete opposites, more polar than day and night, light and dark, ying and yang.

And in others they are just alike, two wayward souls so far on the ends of a spectrum they have met back at the start, at the beginning of what is actually an enormous circle.

When Will lets himself sink into the Chesapeake Ripper’s mind, he sees art. A simple appreciation, the equivalent of a particularly somber young child considering a painting and stating their emotionless approval. When their reasoning is asked after, they have no justification. When he emerges, Will’s head is always clearer, like the Ripper has adopted some of his empathy, some of his struggles and pain, gently removing it from Will’s tortured mind, and replaced it with some of his own tranquility, a quiet calm with no storm to precede.

And if that isn’t love, Will doesn’t know what is.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment?


End file.
